Letting Go of the Person You Used to Be

So Lama Sura Das is my dude! (in my head at least) I credit the man for penning the book that introduced me to Buddhism. It took quite a few years for me to fully be able to implement it in my life. To the point where I intend to start a full business based around spreading the wealth of mindfulness, in addition to and I'm writing two books about it. I recently started following him on Instagram. I guess it's official.

My first introduction to him was his book "Awakening the Buddha Within." That book taught me how to allow Buddhism to heal me and make me a better person. It taught me how to fully exercise compassion for myself and others. It made me a better version of myself and allowed me to be whole and be comfortable in my discomfort and embrace change and the ebb and flow of life. Trips to the Soto Zen Center only completed the transition.

I tend to collect and hoard books. I dumped a lot of books when I moved to Cali, but I held firm to my books on Buddhism and mindfulness. I held on to them mostly as research for the books I'm still writing, but also because I hoped to pick them all up and fully immerse myself in them one day- and I guess that time is now. I was reading some other work on Buddhism when another author listed "Letting Go of the Person You Used to Be." I wouldn't normally have picked it up, except I recognized the author as Lama Surya Das and knew that it deserved a place in my collection, to be picked apart later. 

And my current job is apparently later. I often get quite a bit of down time and I knew early on that I intended to start reading between calls. The book didn't do much to tickle my fancy early on, but I enjoyed that it re-immersed me in Buddhist teachings, so I stayed with it. I rather like the woman that I am becoming and I'm exceptionally proud of her. I've done pretty good at shedding the former version of myself, so the name wasn't really needed, but it was what it was.

A large part of the book talks about death, more so as an example of major loss that most of us suffer. I haven't thought about Pete as much lately, although cold weather seasons and early spring tend to make me think of him more than normal. Just the other night, I stepped outside and I saw a giant star. And I felt him. I felt Pete looking down at me and smiling. I've suffered so much loss lately, that it felt good to be attached again.

The book discussed how we should accept the good and bad in our life. That we should acknowledge it and own it. We should accept it, examine it, learn about it, and release it. It was pretty cool reading in this book what I already know and practice. Then it started talking about journaling *ahem* Discussing writing down our feelings and thoughts. I guess I'm ahead of my time? Not quite, but still.

As I read through the book, one of the challenges it poses is to think about a major loss we've suffered in life. My mind immediately went to Pete. I remembered his smile. I remember how he always made me feel warm. I remember how without saying a word, I was always able to read him. Once he died, I realized how much he really gave to me. I mean, folks at the job were pretty sad that he died. But I was absolutely devastated. I took that to mean that he shared more of himself with me. Because anyone that saw what I saw in him and knew what I knew about him would understand what an incredible being he was. He shared his art with me. He shared his heart with me. No man has ever let me in that deeply. And then he was gone. And there was nothing I could do about it.

Next up, I realized that I mourn the pregnancy and family life that I never got. The one guy I got pregnant by was a lying sack of shit who made it his mission in life to punish me for not aborting the baby he told me he was okay with me getting pregnant with to begin with. I never got the loving maternity photos.  He never once kissed my protruding pregnant belly. He never rubbed it lovingly. I didn't get appreciation for loving this child and raising him to be an absolute rock star. Nope, I was shitted on constantly. And I mourn the praise and relationship that I should have had from my ex. I'm not angry as much. Just sad and disappointed.

Then I thought about the job that fired me for something I didn't do right after I finished grad school. I asked myself why that still hurt me so much almost 6 years later. And I realized that it was because I'd worked my ass off in school, only to land my first adult job and be dismissed. It hurt me on a personal level. What hurt even more was knowing how much my coworkers liked me and wanted me there. I just wanted to get a decent paycheck and pay my bills. After having to lean so hard on my family while in school, I just wanted for once, to be able to say "I got it, I don't need your help." And they took that from me. All for something that wasn't even my fault.

I thought about my amazing cousin, Tracey. What made her so special to me? I realized that after the tumultuous relationship I had with my actual big sister, Tracey, had the heart of what a big sister was supposed to be. For the short time she was in my life, we shared secrets, tears and laughter. She treated me like a young adult. She valued me. And she was taken from me too. I remembered how when Caleb was a baby, wishing like hell that she'd gotten to meet him. I imagined the tons of baby clothes she'd buy for her young cousin/nephew. I imagined her willingness to babysit, and see her being the only one in my family that could see how hard I was trying to stay afloat. Tracey was my real big sister. And she's gone.

(side bar- This is quite possibly, the most difficult post I've ever written)

The last thought that came to me was my ex, Theo. I think about that sorry piece of garbage far more than I care to accept. In spite of him clearly showing me that he brought so little to the picture (which is why I kicked him out fairly early). But why did I mourn the relationship? I don't miss him at all. I don't miss the relationship. But why am I still thinking about him now? I had to dig deep, but I realized it- I mourn the lie that he sold. He sold me a lie of wanting to go out on dates and grow together. Lies of connection and affection. Lies of appreciation. Lies of wanting me and not needing me. Lies of not resenting me for not needing him.

I mourn that he sold me on the idea of the ideal of the perfect connection, one he wanted but was nowhere near capable of achieving. He sold me on that lie- and he got here and pulled the lie from up under me. I mourn what was supposed to be.

I'm roughly a third of the way through the book. A lot of it is stuff I already knew. But I'm learning about things I didn't even know that I was grieving. Bring on the knowledge.